


Touch

by runoutofwit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Hair-pulling, Kink Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex, bottom!Dean, handprint!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runoutofwit/pseuds/runoutofwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the LJ spnkink_meme prompt: “Castiel couldn't care less if Dean touches him sexually. But he loves– really, really–loves touching Dean, both in and out of the bedroom.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

It starts off subtly. They’ll be off on a hunt, and Castiel will walk by, knuckles barely brushing over Dean’s. He will reach across the human to grab something, allowing his fingers to ghost over the other’s shoulders. They are small, tiny gestures, all meant for the purpose of simply touching Dean. He finds it amazing, the sensation of his vessel’s skin brushing over even the tiniest part of the man, clothed or not. So, naturally, he continues doing it.

Soon, he isn’t just letting his fingertips pass lightly and unnoticed. As days pass, he grows riskier. He grabs Dean’s shoulder or elbow when they speak. He stands close to increase the chance of brief, accidental brush of the hands. The human usually shrugs him off or moves away, but lately he doesn’t.

Castiel isn’t quite sure what he likes about touching Dean. Part of it is reassurance. By touching the human, he is making sure that the world around him is not a dream, nor a fake world created by Heaven to punish him. Everything is real: the world, the apocalypse, Lucifer. And, by default, the Winchesters.

He wonders if he would feel the same touching Sam, but when he tries, it is in no way similar. It is just the same as if he’d made contact with any other being. There is something about caressing Dean, however, that is electric. When they connect, Castiel feels like heat is radiating at the spot, sparks of energy passing into him. He is reminded of every tissue, every cell, every particle, atom and element he used to rebuild the body, to bring it to newfound perfection. It reminds him of when he had power.

The hunt they went on tonight was rather simple. They destroyed a vampire nest with ease, and no one suffered any major injuries. All in all, it was a good hunt. Now, they’re returning to the motel. Castiel sits in the backseat and watches as the boys exchange glances every few minutes. He is reminded that there was once a time when he could have effortlessly read their minds. However, even if he had the ability, he would not use it now. He decided a long time ago that he would grant the Winchesters their respective privacies.

When they reach the motel, Sam doesn’t get out of the Impala. Dean tells him, “have a few drinks for me,” and gently taps the car to send it away. Cas watches it go, but doesn’t think anything of it. He is accustomed to the boys’ strange drinking habits. After he enters the hotel, Dean shuts the door loudly behind him.

“Okay, seriously, Cas. What the hell is up with you?”

The angel turns, brows coming together in a look of confusion. “What do you mean, Dean?” he asks. He steps forward to close the space between them, and his blue eyes flicker across the human’s face and chest.

Dean looks angry (Castiel determined it is the most common countenance the man wears), his gaze intense and searching. He takes a step back when the angel advances, though they are still very close, their chests only a foot or so apart.

“The whole… _touching_ thing,” the man irritably responds. “Lately, you keep poking me and grabbing me. Remember that whole ‘personal space’ talk we had?”

“You have not seemed to mind it. Several times I have caught your body subtly leaning into my touches.”

That seems to catch the brunette off guard, because his eyebrows shoot up and his cheeks flush pink. His lips are slightly parted, a half-formed retort in his mouth. Finally swallowing, he shakes his head, and then realizes that they are closer than they were before, their bodies only inches away.

“That’s… That’s not what I asked,” he blurts out dumbly.

Cas’ eyes narrow, and he regards the human with slight amusement. “No, you were wondering why I have been touching you,” he muses, and presses a daring hand to Dean’s chest. The human immediately recoils. He tries to take a step back, but is stopped by the door. “There is something infinitely amazing about the way my vessel reacts to touching you. It does not happen with any other person – only you. “

He watches Dean’s face carefully and comes closer. His hand returns to the man’s chest, fingers splaying out over the heart. He can feel its rapid beats and the slight movement of the muscle hidden beneath the skin. He stares at his own hand in wonder before bringing his gaze back up to Dean. The man looks almost frightened, though mostly surprised. He doesn’t say anything, though, just keeps his hands at his sides and intently watches the angel.

“If you do not want me to touch you, Dean, then you only need to tell me.” Castiel’s words are soft and sincere.

He waits a few brief moments for an objection before closing that last bit of distance between them and presses their bodies together. He sighs pleasantly at the feeling of such closeness, breathing against Dean’s neck. Cas feels the shudder run through the man’s body, and it fills him with a strange sense of satisfaction and warmth. The hand on the human’s chest slowly runs down to his hip, reveling in every tensed muscle. When he cups his face, they are forced to make eye contact.

Despite the hint of distress in Dean’s eyes, there is an overpowering, heavy lust resting in the mossy shades. He doesn’t try to do anything, though, not until Cas has him pressed tightly against the door and wiggles his body in an attempt to fill every gap between them, thigh pressing between the man’s legs. The brunette throws his head back, and stares at the ceiling with his mouth open. The angel marks the reaction with satisfaction and curiosity as he feels the man’s breath and pulse quicken.

Castiel’s fingers dig into his companion’s hips tightly, and he slips his hand behind the human’s head, gripping tightly at his hair. A barely suppressed grunt rumbles in the man’s throat, but he still makes no attempt to touch the angel in anyway. Cas doesn’t mind, though. He can feel the lust resonating in every part of Dean’s body: his breathing, his heart, the twitch of his muscles, the hardness between his legs covered by layers of clothing. No matter what the man tries to do, his body betrays his true desires.

The angel pulls the man’s head to the side, fingers still deep in his hair, and presses a curious mouth to the exposed flesh of his neck. Incredibly soft lips skate their way across it, coating it in soft kisses. Whatever was holding Dean back is broken when Castiel chooses a spot to nip and suck. Dean groans through clenched teeth and his hands grab the other’s waist rather roughly, pulling them into each other.

The fact that Dean is touching him does not, surprisingly, excite Cas. The fact that he _made_ Dean touch him, however, does.

They are soon pulling at each other’s clothes, ripping them off in frenzied lust as they stumble gracelessly to the nearest bed. When all that’s left are their pants, Dean shoves the angel down on the bed. He crawls on top of him, their mouths meeting roughly. Castiel is needy and hungry in the way he pushes his tongue into the other’s mouth, gliding over teeth, gums and warm, wet skin. He wants to memorize everything about Dean’s body in a completely new way. He not only wants to know it scientifically and biologically, but also erotically. He wants to know everything that makes Dean moan and hiss, everything that makes his hips give uncontrollable thrusts. Castiel wants to know every facet of Dean and wants the man to squirm and moan at his hand.

The two roll across the bed, each one vying for control of the situation. Dean grabs the angel’s wrists and pins them down, but thin legs quickly wrap around his waist. With a sharp movement from the angel, the other loses his balance, and Castiel is able to push him onto his back. Some feral growl is released from his mouth, and he goes back to assaulting his companion’s neck with his tongue and lips. In order to ensure that Dean does not fight for power again, he grinds their hips together in a slow, steady pace.

The human spews lewd profanities at the contact and attempts to meet the liquid thrusts. He closes his eyes, and Cas pulls his mouth away to admire his work with a soft smile. Dean is panting, his head thrown back. His face is screwed up in pleasure and desire, and he continues to drive his groin up towards Castiel’s, desperate for contact. Small bruises are forming on his neck. As he stares at them, he notices how the man is no longer struggling, but is relaxed into the bed, completely open to the blue-eyed angel’s advances.

Castiel tentatively lets go of the man’s wrists. When they lean in to kiss, Dean wants to go quickly, urgently, his mouth pressing firm against his partner’s. Cas, however, has a different idea. He refuses to be led and pushes back just as hard, though preferring a slow, leisurely pace that contradicts the movements of their hips. Eventually, the man cedes to it, softly moaning into the other’s mouth as hands slowly feel their way down Dean’s arms.

The passionate kiss is broken, and the angel begins descending Dean’s body, mouth marking a wet path down his torso. He presses himself so that he can feel every inch of the man, tenderly caressing the human’s biceps, chest, and face. Castiel’s mouth stops at the hem of the other’s jeans. His soft hands continue to work their way down, feeling every newly-acquired scar and committing it to memory. As his fingers find Dean’s ribs, he lets them gently scratch the rest of the way down, leaving streaks of quickly fading pink and Dean panting his name.

It’s easy enough to work the jeans off, and the boxers come shortly afterward. Dean is hard and more than ready to go, weakly bucking towards his partner’s mouth. Cas spares an intense, blue-eyed glance from between the man’s legs. They only look at each other for a brief moment before Dean slams his head back into the bed with a groan when the angel’s mouth wraps around him.

It’s inexplicably wonderful to be so close to Dean, to be touching the most intimate places of his body. He flattens his tongue so it rubs firmly against the sensitive underbelly of the human’s cock as he pulls up, letting the organ leave his mouth with a lewd _pop_. Dean moans, because now Cas is letting his lips and tongue play with the head while his hand strokes the length at an agonizingly slow pace.

“ _Fuck_ , Cas…” The words are muffled by the bed, Dean’s face half-buried in it. One hand clings desperately to the sheets while the other grips the angel’s shoulder, looking for support when the dark-haired creature returns the dick to his mouth.

Castiel bobs his head up and down in slow, smooth motions. The hand that had been treating the shaft slides down between the human’s thighs, prodding until he finds the ring of muscle. Dean tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes as the angel hollows out his cheeks and hums his pleasure. The sound and vibration rattle through both their bodies, and Dean arches his back, once more babbling barely coherent curses into the tangle of sheets. Cas spares a quick peek to see his partner biting his lip between gasps and moans, and it encourages him to work harder.

He can feel when Dean is approaching his climax. He knows this, because his one wandering hand feels the tensing of every muscle and how the man’s breathing suddenly becomes stunted and irregular. Castiel quickly pulls away, not wanting to end this just yet, not when he hasn’t explored every crevice of his newfound lover’s body.

The sound Dean makes is like one of pain. He reaches down and grabs Cas’ hair, fingers clenching desperately at the dark locks and trying to urge him back. The angel smacks his hand away, and the human recoils again.

“Patience is a virtue,” the angel chides, and he can’t help but smile at his own words. Dean chances a look at him and rolls his head to the side, practically whimpering with want. It isn’t until this moment that the angel notices that he, too, is completely and totally aroused. His own breathing is quick and irregular, his vessel’s heart is pounding in his chest, and his pants are much too tight.

He stands from the bed and quickly shimmies out of the remainder of his clothes before crawling back between his lover’s legs. He’s just as hard as the human, and his gaze is clouded with lust. Dean props himself up on his forearms, giving Cas a look that the angel doesn’t think he’s ever seen on the man. The human reaches forward for another handful of thick, dark hair and pulls him forward, causing their mouths to meet. They remain in that position for several, hungry seconds before the angel forces himself to pull away.

“Lie back,” Castiel says, and his voice is surprisingly quiet and tender.

Dean does as he’s told, and the angel runs his hands down the man’s thighs before spreading him. Blue eyes close and he slides one, two, three fingers into his mouth, getting them as wet as possible, because as much as he wants to take his charge _right now_ , he doesn’t want to hurt him. He can feel the nearly imperceptible shudders that result from grass-colored eyes watching his lips and tries not to smirk.

He finally pops the digits from his mouth and slides them down between the man’s thighs. He touches the entrance, which is rigid and tensed. Cas looks up at him, and his free hand slides soothingly over the human’s stomach in loving caresses.

“Relax, Dean,” he soothes, his finger pressing gently over the hole and tracing around its edge. “All you must do is trust me.”

The human closes his eyes, and the angel watches the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. A moment later, he manages to relax enough that Castiel can slide a single finger into him. He hisses and writhes under the touch, but does not pull away, instead allowing the angel to work him open. Cas is unbearably slow, taking his sweet time and pushing in as far as possible. The fingertip presses against the inside of Dean, searching, and it isn’t until he finds the spot that makes the human groan and writhe beneath him that he adds a second finger.

Dean is moaning his name, and Cas is still running his hand across the man’s chest and stomach as he strokes the one place that he _knows_ no one else has touched. There is a great deal of satisfaction in that, and the mere thought leaves the angel on edge. He knows he needs to finish soon.

His fingers spend several minutes stretching and making sure that Dean is open. When he finally decides that it’s good enough and can’t wait any longer, he removes them slowly. Dean sighs at the release. Grabbing his own cock, Castiel’s thumb runs over the pre-come leaking from the tip and spreads it around the head. He spits into his hand a second later and works to make himself a bit slicker before lining up with Dean.

The man stiffens again before slowly relaxing. As soon as he’s allowed himself to unwind, Castiel slowly pushes into him. Dean hisses through his teeth, and the angel makes sure to take his time and allow the other time to adjust. As he slides further into him, he begins to lower himself until he’s almost lying flat atop the human. He presses one hand against the small, black tattoo, and the other finds Dean’s hand and he laces their fingers together.

When Cas is fully submerged, he releases a low moan, staring down at his lover through half-lidded eyes. The position does not give him the level of penetration he might have wished for, but it does give him something else. He slowly rocks his hips back and forth, listening to Dean’s pleasured whimpers grow in desperation. Having Dean like this is wonderful in so many ways. He has wanted the human for a long time, but he never imagined it to be like this. Looming over the human’s naked body, thrusting into him, feeling him completely vulnerable, and knowing him intimately; this is what true pleasure is like.

His hips roll forward and back, the speed rising with the volume of their combined moans. Dean clenches the other’s hand and wraps his legs around the angel, trying to pull him deeper. They are so close now. Every place their bodies touch is an intense heat, burning with passion and desire. Their mouths meet again, and they share frantic kisses as both approach climax.

“Dean, Dean, Dean.” Castiel groans the name over and over into the man’s pink, warm mouth, his hips jerking wildly. “I want every inch of you.”

Dean Winchester screams his name when he comes. The angel hurries his hips, crashing into him over and over as he feels himself at the cusp. When his hand finds the scar on Dean’s arm, it’s all over. He grips it tightly, tilting back his head as he buries himself as deeply as possible. Memories of desperation and fear hit him as he feels the swollen mark of Hell. But so do feelings of accomplishment and redemption. He remembers stringing the human’s body back together. He remembers repairing the Righteous Man’s soul as best he could. He remembers feeling his hand burn the physical flesh with absolute power, being the only one who could save Dean Winchester, because Dean Winchester was – and is still – his.

With those thoughts, he orgasms loudly inside his charge. His hips continue to give uneven thrusts throughout, and he lowers himself down so that he can kiss Dean once more. It is not frantic this time, but it still contains every ounce of passion. It is languid, and it is full of love and tenderness. As he slowly pulls out and lies beside Dean, he wraps his arms around the human and holds them close, uncaring for the mess sticking between their stomachs, because this is Dean and he is holding the man in a way that he thought would only exist in silly daydreams and fantasies. They are a tangle of limbs, and Cas feels happiness well up in his chest at the closeness and familiarity, of being able to unabashedly touch the man and let his lips dance across the other’s cheek and mouth.

A few minutes pass, and Dean mumbles, “Sam’s going to be back soon.”

It’s annoying, but true. It is probably in their best interests to clean up or get dressed, but neither attempts to do that. Finally, in a single show of modesty, Castiel reaches out and drapes the tangled mess of sheets over them. They silently agree that it is close enough, and the angel smiles into Dean’s neck. It is not soon after that both fall asleep, content.


End file.
